“Everything good?” Gorabor asked, eyes opening as Tovak lay down.
“Not really,” Tovak said quietly so as not to disturb the others. “We were attacked. Karn was injured and several killed.”
“Karn?” Gorabor sat up. “The corporal is injured?”
“Yeah,” Tovak said, whispering back, “a poison blade. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Bloody gods,” Gorabor hissed in horror. “First Jodin and now Karn.”
“It’s a long story,” Tovak said as an intense weariness washed over him. It seemed his eyes were growing heavy by the moment.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gorabor said.
Tovak let out an exhausted breath. He didn’t have the energy to tell the story. “In the morning, I will tell you all. In my entire life, I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted. I need sleep.”
Tovak lay down on his bedroll with his armor on. He closed his eyes and, within moments, was lost to the oblivion.
Chapter Twelve
The camp was illuminated by the moon, which hung low over the horizon. Almost mechanically, Tovak sat with his squad mates and chewed on a dodder. Without any fires in the camp, it was cold, almost frigid. He was so tired, the dodder was tasteless on his tongue. He felt exhausted, run-down, and thoroughly spent. He knew he needed fuel, energy for the coming day’s march, so he ate.
“I’m telling you, Dagmar, you don’t know what you’re missing,” Gorabor said. The two were packing up their gear just a few feet away. Kneeling, Gorabor had rolled up his bedroll and tied it tight. He paused to look up at Dagmar.
“Oh, I do,” Dagmar said. “Trust me, I do.”
“I doubt that,” Gorabor said.
“Is he talking about Gulda again?” Torimar had returned from using the latrine. He took a knee and began securing his bedroll to his pack. “Or is it that he wants you to find a proper lass … someone respectable?”
“Aye,” Dagmar replied sourly. “He’s trying to get me to reconsider my sinful ways. Can you imagine?”
“As if that will ever happen,” Bettoth said. “Perhaps it’s not a lass you need, Dagmar.”
“Oh?” Dagmar asked, looking over.
“Have you considered a gnome?” Bettoth said. “You could have your very own pain in the ass.”
“Funny.” Dagmar turned back to his pack. He was returning his haversack and mess kit to their place inside. “Witty too. Who knew you were so clever?”
Tovak was too weary to pay much attention to what followed. Judging from the position of the moon, he’d only managed to grab four hours of sleep, which wasn’t nearly enough. By Thulla, he was tired. Tovak took another bite of the cold dodder, while Gorabor and Dagmar continued their back and forth on the benefits of having a relationship with the fairer sex.
Freshly roused, the detachment was preparing to once again march, this time right to the ridge. Beneath a cloudless, starry sky, many were conversing in low tones as they packed up their gear or ate and waited for the inevitable order to fall in. There were laughs and coughs on the air.
As he ate, Tovak tried not to think about how tired he was, or the persistent ache and stiffness that seemed to have invaded his entire body. The moment he’d risen, Gorabor had spilled the beans on Karn. They had peppered Tovak with questions. He had reluctantly answered, telling of the fight and the corporal becoming wounded. He left out how he’d sensed the Koin’Duur. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet or, for that matter, how they would respond.
Torimar and Bettoth had tried to see Karn, but Fenton had turned them away before they had gotten to the corporal. At the time, Tovak hadn’t the energy to do more than pack. He did not want to see the corporal, for he felt terribly guilty that he’d survived while Karn was fighting for his life.
After he’d downed his breakfast, Tovak felt a little better. His mind, however, kept going back to the detachment’s mission and what they would be doing this day.
Tovak glanced over in the direction where they would be going, back to the ridge where he’d faced and killed a Koin’Duur. Memories of the fight nagged at him, the bottomless darkness he’d felt when he’d locked eyes with the creature, Karn’s still body lying on the ground. He could still feel the slice of the enemy’s blade. The pain that followed would be forever seared into his memory, as if it had just happened.
Tovak moved a small stone around with his boot. Once again, against the odds, he had survived. He was either extremely fortunate, or Thulla was looking out for him. He well understood he could have ended up like Karn, and yet his wound had all but healed. In the near dark, he examined his arm and could detect only a slight irritation. It seemed so unreal, so unnatural. What was going on?
A terrible thought occurred to him and he went cold with it, as if he’d been dropped into a cold pool of water. The tiredness was snapped away. Tovak came to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Gorabor asked.
“To see the lieutenant.”
“Why?”
Tovak did not answer. He scanned the camp and spotted Benthok. He moved off quickly, weaving his way around Greng’s strikers and Dagon’s pioneers as he worked his way towards the lieutenant, who was conversing with Brund. Captain Dagon was with them.
Tovak hesitated a heartbeat as he neared. What he wanted to discuss he was uncomfortable speaking about with Dagon. He thought about turning around and waiting for a better time. Only the march was shortly about to begin and then it would be too late.
“So be it,” Tovak said to himself and, stealing himself, stepped closer.
The officers stopped talking and turned at his approach.
“Tovak?” Benthok asked. “What do you need?”
“Lieutenant, sir,” Tovak said, “may I have a word please? It is important.”
The two lieutenants exchanged a glance and then Tovak’s lieutenant looked over at Dagon in clear question.
“We’re done here,” Dagon said stiffly. “As soon as you are finished with him, get the boys organized. I want to start moving as soon as we can.”
“Yes, sir,” Brund said.
Dagon spared Tovak a hard look and then strode past, leaving them.
“What is it?” Brund asked.
“Sir,” Tovak said, and it came out in a rush. “What if that Koin’Duur did sense my presence? And if he could, what if there are others out there? What if the enemy is able to sense my presence while we’re on the ridgetop or something like that? Just by being with the detachment, I could jeopardize the entire mission and give us away.”
“Are you saying you sense something?” Brund’s eyes narrowed. “Like you did with the Koin’Duur?”
“Ah, no, sir,” Tovak said with certainty. “I don’t feel anything like that. I just thought you should know about the possibility—in case—”
“In the event we had not considered it?” Benthok asked, finishing Tovak’s sentence.
“We had, actually,” Brund said. “After we returned, Lieutenant Benthok and I discussed it last night and with the captain too.” The lieutenant blew out a tired breath. “You’re right in thinking it’s a valid concern.”
“You told the captain?” Tovak looked in the direction Dagon had gone. He suddenly felt betrayed by the two officers. How would the captain of the pioneers react to knowing that Tovak was getting feelings and urges to do things? Would he be skeptical? Would he think it was another desperate attempt at gaining attention? Tovak thought that likely. He’d already been warned by Dagon that any breach in discipline would not be tolerated.
“We’re taking what happened seriously,” Benthok said, seeming to understand Tovak’s concern. “If there is even a remote chance what you told us is real, we would be negligent in not informing the captain.”
“You don’t believe me?” Tovak asked, looking between the two officers. In truth, there were moments when he did not believe himself.
“It’s not that,” Benthok said. “We actually do believe you. But … yo
u must understand, there is still some healthy doubt. What you are describing is something we’ve not come across before.”
“It’s all rather strange,” Brund said, “unsettling even. I am sure you can understand that.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said, uneasy. “Does the captain believe me as well?”
“What the captain thinks is unimportant,” Benthok said. “He listened and that’s what matters.”
Tovak thought about that. He decided that Dagon would be highly skeptical, at best. Especially since it came from Tovak.
“How far away do you believe you were when you sensed the Koin’Duur?” Brund asked. “How close was he before you felt him?”
Tovak had to think about that for a moment. He had felt something a short while before the dain had appeared. He walked it back in his head, trying to imagine how quickly the enemy patrol had been moving through the forest and how far away they might have been when he sensed the evil.
“I don’t know, maybe fifty yards, sixty, but certainly not more than that.”
“And how far away do you think the Koin’Duur was before he sensed you?” Brund asked pointedly. “When did he seem to take notice of you?”
“Ah,” Tovak said, “he looked right at my position when he was about twenty-five yards out. It all happened so fast, sir. But I know he knew I was there.”
“I understand,” Brund said. “Benthok estimated it happening at about the same distance. The Koin’Duur turned right where the dain had been.” Brund looked over at Benthok. “Do I have that right?”
“You do.”
“So, Tovak, what do you make of that?” Brund asked.
Tovak realized the point the lieutenant was trying to make. It hit him a moment later, like a ton of stone falling on him. Perhaps, if he’d not been so thoroughly exhausted, he might have come to the same conclusion and not have had to bother the officers. He suddenly regretted coming to see them.
“That the range for me to sense the enemy and for them to feel me,” Tovak said, “assuming I’m not imagining it all, is too close to worry about for what we’re doing.”
“Exactly,” Brund said. “If we were making a surprise assault against an enemy encampment, for example, with what we know, I’d leave you behind in a heartbeat. You might give us away. However, on something like this, there’s no need to do so, as the risk is minimal. There will be a strong cordon of scouts out, so we will know if enemy patrols come near. We’re thinking it is not likely going to be an issue. At least we hope so.”
“The Koin’Duur are few in number,” Benthok said. “With any luck, that will be the only one anywhere near these parts.”
“So, don’t worry,” Brund said. “Let us do the worrying. In fact, we might just have need of someone who can sense those foul bastards at some point.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said, not wholly convinced by their argument. It made him feel a little better, but he was still worried. Then what Brund had said registered. “You do?”
“Of course,” Brund said. “If we come across any Koin’Duur, or come near enough for you to sense one, we must kill it. They are very dangerous and not only direct but motivate the orcs they lead. It is a religious thing. Cutting one down early can make the difference in a fight. At least, that is what we’re told by those who have faced them in the past.”
Tovak had not thought about that. It made sense.
“So,” Brund continued, “if you see one, or sense such a creature, tell us immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I am thinking you are lucky, Tovak,” Brund said. “I do.”
“Lucky how, sir?” Tovak asked, wondering where the lieutenant was going.
“Fortune favors you,” Brund said. “Since you joined the warband, you have lived a charmed life. Good things keep happening around you. Perhaps you are even gods blessed.”
Tovak wasn’t so sure about that either. From his perspective, what he had experienced was more akin to a continual nightmare. Then, another thought occurred to him.
“What if that’s why the enemy came the way they did?” Tovak asked. “They might have followed us because of me. What if they could sense my presence in a general sort of way?”
“That is a lot of what-ifs,” Brund said.
“You are overthinking things,” Benthok said. “It is more likely the enemy picked up our tracks and simply followed us. You’ll come to realize with more experience that oftentimes the simplest answer is the correct one. Until you know more about this sixth sense of yours, it’s wise to assume that your presence only gave us away at the last moment, rather than the reason we were pursued in the first place.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said. It sounded reasonable. He still had so many questions and so few answers. It was maddening.
“We’re about to form everyone up and head out,” Brund said, signaling the conversation was at an end. “Make sure you are ready.”
“Sir,” Tovak said to Benthok, then hesitated. “How is Corporal Karn doing?”
“He’s still alive,” Benthok said. “Fenton thinks there’s hope he may pull through. Then again, with poison, who can tell? It is just too early. He will be sent back to the warband along with a report of our progress. There are healers there who can give him better care, and they need to know that we’ve run into a Koin’Duur. If I hear anything, I will let you know.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tovak said.
“Don’t worry about Karn right now,” Benthok said. “We have a job to do and that must be our sole focus. Now, get back to your squad.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said, turning away.
“Oh, Tovak?” Brund said.
Tovak turned back.
“Sir?”
“You were right in coming to us with your concerns,” Brund said. “Keep doing it.”
Tovak gave a tired nod and left them. He threaded his way back to his squad.
“Form up outside the camp, by company, in two ranks,” Sergeant Thegdol called. “Time to get moving, boys.”
The corporals immediately took up the call. Tovak returned his haversack to his pack and then cinched it closed. With a groan of tortured muscles, he slung the pack over his shoulders. Around him, his squad mates were doing the same.
“You bunch,” Thegdol called to them as he was walking by. He pointed outside the camp wall. “Fall in over there with the rest of the skirmishers on the left. With Karn down, you will report to me and the lieutenant directly. Got that?”
“Yes, sir,” they chorused.
“Right then,” Thegdol said. “Don’t keep the officers waiting. Hop to it. That includes you too, Dagmar. By the gods, don’t let me catch you dragging ass.”
“You’d never catch me, Sergeant,” Dagmar said.
Thegdol gave an amused grunt and continued on.
Tovak and the rest of his squad made their way through the gate of the camp and fell in together. Within a short time, the entire detachment had formed up and was dressing themselves upon one another. Their ranks rapidly became well-ordered. A quick roll call was taken by the corporals and the sergeants.
“Atten-shun,” Lieutenant Brund commanded as he strode to the front. The detachment, with the pioneers on the right, the Fifth in the center, and the skirmishers on the left, snapped to attention and turned their eyes to him. Both captains joined the lieutenant. Benthok had formed up with the skirmishers.
Dagon stepped forward.
“By now, you’ve all heard what happened yesterday with the scouting effort of the ridge,” Dagon said without any preamble. “Thus far, we believe the enemy is not yet aware of our presence up here in the hills. They will soon learn a patrol is missing, but we will be long gone by the time that happens.” Dagon paused to suck in a breath. “You all know our mission. Our goal is to get up and over the ridge and into the Keelbooth Valley. We will scale the ridge today. The other side is more exposed, and since the enemy is already active in the valley, we cannot risk detection. Once on top of the ridge, we will
remain concealed in the trees and wait for nightfall. Then, we will descend the other side and make our way down and into the valley. From there, we will move to block any enemy reinforcement of their defensive wall guarding the canyon and, if possible, make an assault against the enemy’s defensive position from behind. I know I can count on each one of you to do your duty. The warband’s eyes are upon us.”
Dagon turned his gaze to Brund.
“Lieutenant,” Dagon said. “Get them moving.”
“Alright, then, everyone remember to stay vigilant and call out if you feel something isn’t right. We’re moving out,” Brund said as he paused and eyed the assembled group. Apparently satisfied, he started issuing commands to march. “Detachment, right face. Forward, march.”
As they moved by the camp, Tovak spotted four warriors, with two carrying a stretcher back the way they’d come, towards the warband. He knew without a doubt who they bore and said a silent prayer for the corporal’s swift recovery. Fenton was not with them. Tovak could see the priest ahead in the column of march.
Within an hour of stepping off, the first of the suns had risen in the east. The light filtering gently through the canopy of leaves overhead made the march easier. The temperature also increased. Tovak’s stiffness lessened, along with his aches and pains, as he warmed up. Once again, the skirmishers marched at the end of the column. Tovak was so tired he did not even feel the urge to scout. He needed a good night’s sleep, perhaps several, to recover from the events of the last few days. Only he knew that was unlikely.
He focused on the march, placing one foot in front of the other and making sure his feet did not get caught in the undergrowth or an errant root sticking up out of the ground.
The march through the forest to the ridge seemed to take forever. There were many places where the column stopped for some reason and then abruptly started again. At points, wondering what the holdup was, Tovak thought it downright maddening, but at others he was grateful for the break. The crossing of the river proved a choke point. It took some time for the entire detachment to cross over the fallen tree.
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